RE: Monarch-Chapter 310: Ascension XI

Some things were beyond description. No spoken word would do them justice. Even the casual distance induced by memory orbs had a way of blunting seeing a thing in the flesh.

So, bearing that in mind, I gathered them all. Everyone I trusted. Thaddeus led us to another entrance located within the basement floors of the castle itself, far less likely to invite discovery than the one in the dungeon had been. I heard quiet whispers behind me as we wound through the tunnels, traversing the smooth hallways, and approached the central passage, pushing the doors open, leading them all onto the catwalk in the darkness.

Just as before, the lights flipped on, one after another.

A collective gasp came first.

Then mutters of anger, expressions of rage and betrayal.

Mari and—surprisingly—Zinn were among the first to vomit. Sevran just stood there, fists clenched at his side.

Sera and Annette looked as stricken as I'd been, eyes widening in the realization of what had existed beneath their feet the entire time.

"Is… there anything we can do for them?" Annette asked.

I shook my head. "They're already gone. Their bodies just don't know it yet."

"Why?" Sera asked through tear-filled eyes.

"Fear." I answered.

"Cowardice." Alten growled, slowly turning to take it in.

Maya was quiet. The rage wafted from her in waves, righteous anger at seeing Barion's work not only revisited, but expanded, so long after his death. "This cannot go unanswered."

"So." I looked at them. "We are all in agreement?"

There wasn't a single murmur of dissent.

/////

Kholis played out much the same.

There were more shadows looming on the horizon, and thanks to that the colors of the growing city were not quite as vibrant as they'd been, but all in all, it was a welcome reliving.

After some indecision, I said my apologies to Willow and took Titan instead. Unlike before, he warmed to me almost immediately, in stark contrast to the previous encounter. It's difficult to say what made the difference, but animal instinct often transcends human understanding.

I brought my regiment along, and despite initial fears, they were spectacularly well behaved. I think they were as taken with Kholis as we were. And in the end, I only had to drag one piss-drunk soldier out of the woods in the middle of the night.

In part due to that very late evening, we visited Sparkwright later than intended, to surprising results. His mystery ore had been just as difficult to process, but somehow, in throwing everything at the wall to save face, he'd produced a single sword, just to prove he could.

As swords went, it was atypical in appearance, its vibrant, swirling deep blue marred by dark impurities that together created the impression of the night sky.

Technically, the blade belonged to the elf that made the wager, but as the story went, when Sparkwright tried to give it back to him along with the rest of the stellaryte, the man's eyes had nearly popped out of his head, and he'd all but fled out the door, refusing to so much as touch it.

I liked the weight and feel. Something about the balance was particularly exceptional. Supposedly, it was quite sturdy, both lighter and stronger than lowhil, and despite ample testing, not at all hampered by the impurities. Furthermore, while I had no way of confirming it, I had a suspicion this was likely the result of the same slag I'd found melted down and cast in the remains of Sparkwright's shop after the world had ended.

I bought it at a premium.

It seemed only right to keep it, even if it was something of a solemn reminder.

Throughout our stay, Maya experienced it all as if she never had. We chatted in cafes, decorated our home, fawned over each other, perused shops, fell asleep on the chaise with Kerai strewn across our laps, got well and truly drunk, and refreshed our growing friendships with Lucius and Millicent just as before—and in a mix of guilt and appreciation, we may have spoiled them. Just a little.

This time, we bonded our baskets together before sending them down the river with the rest of the scattered fleet. Maya still placed a flower in my hair, and I was happy to let her, wearing it proudly until it flew free in a tragic gust.

As much as she wasn't thrilled with my decision to delay sharing the memories from the last two loops, I insisted. Because the good people in our lives, precious as they are irreplaceable—the ones that hold fast with us, even when the night is darkest—deserve to see their trust rewarded.

To see the sunrise.

And once we spoke our nuptials, forever marking our bond in the same grove that had once been sanctified by fire, I carried through with my promise and shared everything that happened with her.

In the end, she agreed it’d been for the best.

By far the biggest difference—and the only thing we allowed ourselves to do that resembled anything of import—was that we were far more flagrant. I'd often speak aloud of the many places we'd visit now that 'my father was taking care of the arch-mage for me,' directly and overtly announcing my intention to shrug off my responsibilities and skip the continent with my wife-to-be. We discussed names for children in public, which seemed to delight Maya in a dark, cunning sort of way.

Because I didn't have to devise a manner with which to bait my father into action. I'd had that since the beginning. Word would reach him shortly. And barring one key difference, Thaddeus would advise nearly the same as he once had, when it was Lillian in Maya’s stead.

The trick to avoiding escalation into a bloody battle was 'abandoning' my regiment in Kholis, and taking the eastern road towards Prann, the closest seaside town. Once we reached it and boarded a ship, we'd be beyond his grasp. And he knew it.

He'd come with Black Shields.

And we'd be ready.

/////

On the dawn of the fourth day, we awoke to a world that hadn't ended. Dark clouds still stretched all the way to the horizon, showering the wide sprawling meadows with snow instead of ash, falling in vast curtains until it covered the ground below.

Dressed in thick clothing and heavy coats, Maya and I huddled together in the back of a carriage. Every so often she'd pull back the curtain behind us, watching Kholis grow smaller in the distance.

"Thank you." She said, seemingly out of nowhere.

"For what?" I turned to her.

"It felt important to go. To try to experience what we lost. But I wasn't sure I’d enjoy it. After knowing what happened there."

"But you did?"

"Yes. I really did." She sat back with a small smile, leaning onto my shoulder.

My fingers drummed my knee.

We're not out of the woods yet.

We shifted forward as the carriage lurched to a stop. The door opened to what was escalating from a storm to a full-on blizzard, wind wailing as two shivering figures made their way to the carriage, followed by one seemingly unbothered by the cold. "Oh fuckin' fuck me, Elphion take my toes." Mari complained loudly, the cart shifting with her as she slid to the far end of the row across from us, high steel armor covered in snow.

"Maybe you should have worn less metal," Alten argued, even as his teeth chattered. "Gods."

"You want to go up against old oath bane himself in a little cowskin?" Mari regarded him with a horrified expression.

"They're heavy leathers. Perfectly practical."

"As a clear-cut reminder. No one on this side of the carriage touches the king unless given no alternative." Sevran said, closing the door and settling down next to Alten, who now looked both cold and rather cramped. "We are here in two capacities. Witness, and deterrent for whatever additional forces may be brought to bear."

"We brought the bear alright." Alten grumbled, grunting as Mari's elbow collided with his ribs.

Deciding who would accompany us was a tough decision.

We were limited to the number of people who could fit in a single carriage. I had no idea what sort of reconnaissance Gil would employ, but there was a smaller detachment following us parallel to the road, and a single well-timed sentry could blow the whole thing. Maya was non-negotiable. She was the bait, and with her I wasn't taking any chances. After much deliberation, I'd decided to leave Sera, Zinn, and Aetherya in Kholis to look after the regiment. They were all strong fighters in their own right, but the first two relied heavily on magic. If, once things began in earnest, Gil treated this as more of a group engagement, I wanted anyone present fully able to defend themselves.

And determined as she’d seemed, I still wanted to spare Sera from this.

Alten and Sevran were among the best martial fighters the kingdom had to offer—if not entirely atop that pile. Mari was less developed, but possessed a level of aggression that was terrifying to behold, and well suited to small-scale skirmishes.

"What if he brings an army?" Alten said. Of the three, he seemed the most concerned. The darkness in his eyes had only slightly ebbed since I'd taken them to the chamber.

"He won't." I said.

"And if he does, we'll fight the fuckin' army." Mari banged her breastplate, with the unfortunate side effect of showering herself in snow. "Gods I'm freezin'."

"Here—Give me your hands," Maya offered, reaching out, her palms growing green. Mari took them, immediate relief flooding her as some of her color returned.

"Let me help." I held out a palm washed in violet flame.

"Hey. Hey!" She tried in vain to shift away as I melted the snow off her armor and Maya continued to warm her.

"And now I'm wet." Alten complained, at where the runoff of water had dampened his thigh.

Mari leered at him. "Why didn't ye say that when we was back in Kholis?"

Alten paused, seeming to consider her for the first time, then turned to me.

What? Do what you want.

I gave him a half-shrug.

"Nerves are running high. For good reason." Sevran said mildly, "It's fine to blow off a little steam, just try to stay focused on the goal."

"Where were you?" I asked him. "Saw you in town once or twice, checking on the men, but not nearly as much as these degenerates."

"Camping." Sevran said as if it were the height of luxury, corners of his mouth turning up at the memory. "The solitude was divine."

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Fair enough."

He grew serious. "I've asked this before. But I will again, just to be certain. Are you sure you don't want me to act as your proxy?"

I cannot best her, son. And if she is beyond me, what chance do you have?

I shook my head.

"Very well." He accepted it, albeit hesitantly, slowly leaning back and resting his head against the cushion. Regret tightened his mouth.

"What is it?"

He turned his head, pulling back the curtain to reveal the drifting white of the slowing downpour. "Do you remember when I asked what you would do, if the King's sudden benevolence was revealed to be a facade?"

"I remember."

"In truth, I wasn't hopeful. But I didn't think it would happen so soon." He sighed. "It feels as if I cursed you."

"…No. You sensed what I couldn't." I chewed my lip. "Or maybe just didn't want to. Sometimes I struggle to see what's right in front of me. When it’s difficult, or painful. Regardless. The answer remains the same."

"Denial is a knife that comes for us all, at one point in our lives or another. All we can do is be vigilant."

"Fuck it." Alten held out pale shaking hands. "Do me too?"

"Excuse me?" I glared, even as Maya cackled with laughter and took Alten's hands, reviving them with magic.

THUD THUD

The sound came from above, a gauntlet slamming into the rooftop.

"RIDER!"

Everyone went silent, mirth extinguished as I turned, and Maya threw open the back curtain.

"How many?!" I shouted, squinting into the white fog, trying to make out the numbers.

There was a hesitation.

"Just one so far!" The driver called back.

Nerves ran wild through my body as the steady stream of snow lessened enough to reveal the rider. He was a dozen wingspans out and closing fast, riding at full gallop through the waning snow like a madman. "That's him." I murmured.

"Why would he be out front?" Maya asked.

"He wouldn't." Mari said, immediately checking her side, as Alten reached over Sevran to check his.

Sevran watched the oncoming rider, transfixed. "He's… alone."

Every trap I could imagine involved the rider doing the opposite of this, taking his time, letting the flanks get in position. Sevran was right.

Damn me, he was right.

I banged a fist against the roof. "Halt!"

The world slowed down, every snow-spraying stride the horse took forward barely gaining ground. I opened the door of the carriage and stepped out, frosted air nipping at my nose, fresh snow crunching beneath my boots, every beat of my heart pounding in my chest as the rider drew closer.

I could see him now, face, beard, and hair smitten with snow, hunched over the panting animal whose breath exploded from its nostrils like smoke from a wyvern's snout.

A good distance away from the carriage I stopped, planting my feet, drawing the sharp air until my chest ached, then releasing it.

Feeling the growing fear slip away.

Horse and rider blew past me, a torrent of wind in their wake, ruffling through my coat, biting through my torso, hardening the ice in my core. I turned, watching as the horse huffed, shaking its head, a pained whinny escaping its muzzle as King Gil dismounted, brushing snow off his leathers, regarding me at a distance for just a moment before a terrible sound emitted from the horse's muzzle and it fell, landing on its side with a final thud that echoed across the clearing, frightening a murder of crows that rose in chaotic spirals, cawing dissent, flock forming together and fleeing to a place not so barren as the wasteland of white where only the wingless remained.

"Useless fucking animal." He seethed, wide chest expanding and collapsing as he caught his breath. "Are you alright?"

"Am I… alright?" I repeated.

"Yes, you simpleton." He growled, approaching, his large boots sinking easily through the calf-deep snow. "ANSWER!"

"Fine." I replied, startled.

"Good. Good." He turned to the side, catching his breath. "There's been a lot of rumors. About you leaving. Shoving off on a ship with the emissary."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"That's what I said." He shook his head. "None of it made a lick of sense. Thaddeus believed it, but the bastard's been off lately. Something's wrong. We're being fucked with." He trudged past me, staring out towards the distant treeline.

"You came here alone?" I asked, my throat tight.

"No. At least, not at first. The shits wanted to take shelter. Frightened fucking children, scared of a little snow. Some Northmen." He raised his hand in frustration and let it drop. Then his gaze dropped to my garb. "Where are your furs, son?"

"They slow me down."

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"We'll get you some. Dozens of little farm towns on this road. We'll take the carriage somewhere nearby, flag my men down when they finally drag their asses out of whatever hole they're hiding in." He clapped me on the shoulder and moved towards the wagon.

When I didn't follow, he slowed, turning. "What's the delay?"

There was a click, as the carriage door opened. His reaction was immediate, head tilting to the side as they stepped out, one by one, grim faces and silent mouths fanning out, spacing wide, ceding a wide arena.

Tired of respite, the snow fell heavier now, slowly burying us.

He beheld me, as if seeing me for the first time. "Boy… what's this about?"

"You know what it's about." I returned.

"Aye. Guess… I do." He turned slowly, looking at the outer circle. No one moved. "Should have seen it. Should have known from the moment you raised that hand to me outside the Enclave that this was coming. Found your mettle." He completed his rotation, gaze returning to me. "And so the boy becomes a man. Just as I did."

"No. I never wanted this." I hissed, my vision blurring. "I would have followed your leadership. Waited my turn. There is no world in which I'd trade a father for a crown."

“Yet here we are. Whatever the reason, the result is the same.” His voice rumbled.

It all led to this.

Yet, in that moment, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

"Chin up, son." He beat his chest in salute, and to my horror, I saw a tear stream down his cheek, even as he snarled. "This is the part they write about. Not the treaties, or negotiations, or politicians wringing their hands. This part." He shoved his finger at the snow. "Right here. Now raise that chin."

I raised my chin.

"Straighten your back."

I rose to my full height.

"Draw that fucking sword!"

The cold metal of the hilt bit through the leather of my glove, stinging my palm as I drew the nameless blade, holding it down at my side, edge scraping against the ivory sea.

Behind him, the twisted gnarl of a long dead tree reached upward in a tableau for mercy, a crow from the earlier flock landing upon its summiting twigs. It cawed once, feathers puffed, dark eyes trained on the creatures below.

King Gil drew his blade, a high-steel behemoth that dazzled even in the dimness. His mouth split in the same brutal smile I'd seen countless times throughout my life. "Now roar. ROAR!"

I screamed. Screamed rage and sorrow and hatred and regret and rushed towards him, inscriptions on my legs carrying me across the field of treacherous snow. Doom fell towards me in a vicious two-handed diagonal. I slipped beneath it, driving my blade up and under, towards his unarmored neck.

He drew back, avoiding it cleanly, and I saw him smile.

NO.

A hand whipped out toward my head and I got my left arm up just in time. His fingers wrapped around it tightly, happy for the substitution, and my feet left the ground as he flung me headlong into the sky, cloud and snow spinning in an unfathomable blur. My eye caught the wagon just long enough to divine up from down and I cast an aegis, landing atop it.

A mammoth blur passed beneath, blade set on a destination that would have cleaved me in two.

But he was out of position now, and I plunged downward, raising the sword above my head, swinging it with all my might. It missed, raising a spray of snow, even as he leapt away from me.

He… retreated.

The smile was different now, less controlled, more rabid. But he didn't charge forward. It was subtle, but there was guardedness to his stance.

Eventually he spoke. "It hasn't been that long. What happened to you?"

I pushed him, before he had too long to adapt, sprinting forward, arm cocked, violet flame overflowing. Thrusting it forward, I let the flames burst out just long enough to block his vision before releasing the mana and whipping my blade out from low-stance across his torso.

Scarlet spattered the snow in an arc.

The reprisal was swift and terrible, wide, brutal strikes of impossible reach that drove towards me even as I hopped backwards, waiting for an opening, eventually realizing that there would never be one, because gods the man had stamina—

He caught me with the very tip of his blade, cleaving my armor from hip to shoulder, leaving a bleeding line that stung like fire.

I roared, rushing inside his range, throwing the unnamed blade down point first into the snow and drawing the sword breaker, stabbing it upwards towards his heart. It stuck in his leathers, a finger's width, and his eyes widened as he dropped the behemoth, instead gripping the dagger with both hands as I twisted it, shoving with all my might.

Blood poured from his fingers beneath his glove, slicking the metal, and he bellowed, driving his forehead downward. I lowered my head before it could break my nose, impact still rattling me terribly, vision blurring as he tore the dagger from me and grabbed a fistful of my hair, wrenching my head back and exposing my throat.

I saw the metal flash downward and twisted, driving my left fist into his jaw, snapping his head to the side.

A boot stomped into my chest, sending me skidding backwards, barely keeping my balance, not far from where I'd dropped the unnamed blade.

Gil nearly chased. Stopped mid-step. Evaluated my proximity to the sword and thought better of it, turning to retrieve his blade. He cupped his chin in his palm and pulled, straightening his jaw with an audible snap.

I snatched the hilt from the snow, and in the interim, noted where the dagger had fallen, sunk beneath the surface.

"Again!" He shouted.

I wasn't flagging. Not yet. But it was better to moderate my antagonism. He'd forced me into the role of aggressor twice, and my endurance wasn't yet what it was in Couha'zen.

"Lost your nerve, boy?" He taunted.

I readied myself, letting the silence speak for me.

I'm not afraid.

The behemoth came for me again, carving a wide wave in the snow behind him.

Raising my fist, I called up three pillars of flame, each wider than a man in diameter, all three barreling towards him in a trident. I sprinted behind them, moving to the right as they diverged, keeping out of his vision—

But somehow he knew. Saw my footprints at the last second. Swung the blade at me like a bludgeon. My ribs cracked, two broken, maybe three. But falling meant death—I fired the inscription on my right leg, kicking out hard, correcting the rotation so I landed upright.

He came at me with all his strength again, sword overhead this time, giant blade swinging downward, fully intending to split me where I landed.

I disappeared, flame of absolution obliterating me to dust, darkness blotting out the endless white—taking care to give the space he occupied a wide berth, reappearing further to the right.

Over and over we clashed, leaving furrows of scarlet sinking into the snow, any advantage temporary, any headway quickly countered and undone. Finally, my endurance began to flag, every step harder, every swing of the sword slower.

But he was slowing too.

Somewhere behind the clouds, the sun had begun to lower, light growing weaker with every exchange.

Was this really all there was?

All we were?

Monsters swinging slabs of polished rock at each other until one of us fell?

I remembered him bouncing me on his knee as I ogled the map on his desk, explaining what the symbols meant, and how to read it.

I remembered his council, of what a king should be.

I remembered him.

My heel found its target beneath the frost.

The snow fell faster, blizzard returning in full gale, as if it'd tired of waiting and intended to cover it all.

He came at me, with all his power, all his speed, soaring through the ivory curtain as the snow kissed his bloodstained teeth.

I didn't want him to die.

I slid my toe beneath the dagger's cross guard and kicked it upward, dodging beneath his strike and catching the hilt, pinning the buried blade against the ground with my sword breaker. Compared to the force we'd expended, the killing blow was almost soft in comparison.

A whisper of metal across his throat.

He grabbed me, crushing me in a vice-like grip. His breath rasped in my ear.

"I've… never been so proud."

Then, the giant fell, a mountain in the wasteland.

I told myself it was right.

Even as the tears spilled from me freely, I told myself it was right. Good, even. Better than he deserved. Far better than he'd given any of his conquests. The razor wind buried him even as he clasped his throat, coughing blood between his teeth, snow-strewn fingers dyed red even as his life faded.

I didn't want him to die.

Because if he died here there was no justice. He'd still sent countless people to their deaths. And one life does not cancel thousands.

A power surged within me, bright and warm. Despite its newness I recognized it instantly. The same warmth had surged through me countless times, granting mercy when only darkness waited.

I knelt beside him and stretched out my palm. Green light illuminated us both, and he seemed to register what was happening, acceptance turning to puzzlement. It was slow, far slower than Maya would have been.

But it was enough.

The moment the bleeding stemmed I hauled him up, holding my sword breaker to his throat, ready to reopen his injury the second he moved wrong.

"Do you want to see Ragnarok?" I yelled over the storm.

Surprise registered. Then delight. "There's… nothing… I'd rather… see… more." He mouthed, the words clear on his bloody lips.

“Even if it means fighting a thousand battles in the hells?”

“What’s… the downside…?” He laughed, then recoiled in pain.

"Will you fight on the side of the humans?" I pressed.

"Who… else… is there… to fight for…"

I dropped him, keeping my blade pressed against his throat and gripped the medallion at my neck. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

"Vogrin. I need Ozra."

"What a coincidence," Vogrin responded through our link, clearly delighted. "He's already here."